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Pone me, pigris ubi nulla campis Arbor aestiva recreatur aura Dulce ridentem Lagagen amabo Dulce loquentem. HOR. Lib. i. Ode xxii. 17. Place me where never summer breeze Unbinds the glebe, or warms the trees; Where ever lowering clouds appear, And angry Jove deforms th' inclement year: Love and the nymph shall charm my toils, The nymph, who sweetly speaks and sweetly smiles.
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